Fast Forward to Hope

Choosing to Build the Power of Self

Indira Kaur Ahluwalia

• Publisher: New Degree Press
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781637300954
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Personal Development
• Subtopic: Self Improvement

Most people see a stage IV cancer diagnosis as the end of their story, but not author Indira Kaur Ahluwalia. For her, that was just the beginning.

Fast Forward to Hope: Choosing to Build the Power of Sel f recounts Indira's journey from fear to hope as she struggled to face various challenges, particularly related to her advanced breast cancer diagnosis. Bolstered by her strength of fighting cancer, she fully discovered her true capacity and reconsidered life choices to create the reality she desired. This book is an homage to the journey of life. It is a tribute to the struggle of finding one's own power, and cultivating life's trajectory.

As you walk with her as she shares her story, you'll find insights and strategies she learned along the way that can be applied to your struggles whether they be medical diagnoses or other stumbling blocks life puts in your path. Whatever the odds, you can choose to find the courage to build on the smallest shred of hope to live life on your own terms. Fast Forward to Hope is for anyone ready to look at their challenges in a new light.

PART ONE

THE WHAT

SECTION A

THE TIP AND THE ICEBERG

CHAPTER 2

DR. MASER AND THE VOICE

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I sat in Dr. Maser’s well-appointed waiting room with some dread. I had been coming to her for years, from even before she delivered my two children. We were friends now.

She always kept the waiting room a little cool. I shivered a bit. She knew about my father’s history with cancer, and she had always been extremely vigilant with me in her care and approach.

It was time. I knew this was the moment of truth. With Dr. Maser, I knew we would get to the bottom of what was going on in my right breast. The nurse walked me into a room. No usual chit-chat. I let myself assume it was because it was so late in her workday.

Dr. Maser examined me carefully, silent the entire time. She then asked the requisite volley of questions. When did it start? What was the pain like? A rod of pain? When did you first feel the thickness? Has the thickness changed? What about the skin on your breast? Have you noticed any dimpling? Have you felt any thickening anywhere else on the right breast? No issues on the left breast? Do you have any pain now?

I answered each question. No small talk still. No reassurance. I remained on autopilot, hanging in midair between my unstated fears and her clinical heft.

She turned around to write something. Then, she turned back and faced me. She handed me a prescription for a mammogram and said, “You need to get it done this week.”

It was 5:30 p.m. on Wednesday. She wants to get this done this week. I let that sink in. I understood what that meant. I asked her, “Do you think it could be cancer?” I finally said it out loud.

These words felt odd coming out of my mouth. Yet, it was almost a relief to be able to truly confront the possibility for the first time. My heart pounded and I focused intently on Dr. Maser’s face to closely watch her expressions to see if I could tell what she was thinking. The nurse kept looking at the floor. Dr. Maser said what any good doctor would say in this moment: “We have to look at results before we can say anything for sure. I want us to be careful.” No expression. But the message was clear.

I inherently understood that the possibility of this being cancer had just gone up exponentially. Had I always suspected it was cancer? I asked myself.

I thanked Dr. Maser. I took the prescription, folded it in half, then again, and put it in my bag. My mind was seemingly still but bubbling like a volcano under the surface. I thanked her again, mindlessly.

“Call Fairfax Radiology,” she said. “I want you to go to the one down the street from me on Arlington Boulevard. Tell them I want them to do the mammogram this week. If they say they can’t fit you in, call my office.” And she gave me a hug. Both of us still holding our breath.

I walked down the hall and got in the elevator. I stepped out of the elevator with a crowd of people jostling to get on with their lives and walked toward the big sliding door ahead of me. Still not able to think, the torrents of my emotions were beating wildly against the walls of my reserve. There were no words. The pain that constricts your heart when you can’t dare feel what you know you are feeling had tightened its hold. The brightness of the closing day hit my eyes as I looked up and stepped out of the door. Blinded for a moment, I heard a voice.

“Everything is going to change.”

I just stopped. Right there. Just outside Dr. Maser’s building, still under the awning, awash in sunlight of a day that was completing its time.

Everything is going to change. The voice was clear. Strong. I knew it came from within me. I didn’t say it. I didn’t even think it. I didn’t have the capacity to formulate words yet.

Everything is going to change. I was spiritual enough, even then, to hear the words as a gift.

The words didn’t say, “You are going to die.” Thank God. I can deal with change, I thought. Thank you, Waheguru.

I started walking forward into the change.

I didn’t know what the voice was. I didn’t know what was going to change.

I knew there was more at play than me.

I could breathe again.

I exhaled.

CHAPTER 1

THE PAIN AND THE QUESTION

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The Pain and the Cane

I tried to lift my right leg to reach what seemed like the insurmountable first step to the doctor’s office. I held onto the railings with both my hands, my knuckles white, as I tried to coax my right leg higher. I took shallow breaths as my breathing strained with the effort. The pain held my body severely in its grip. My hips hurt. And my lower back. I was taken aback by how hard it was to climb these three steps. I lived in a townhouse, and just this morning I had been able to come down the stairs, carefully. I joked with my mother as I gritted my teeth and slowly climbed the third step, “I may need to get daddyjee’s cane.” I had always admired my grandfather’s carved walking stick.

It was late on this Friday evening in November 2006, and I had taken the last appointment with this doctor who I had seen once before. I didn’t have a regular internist. Originally, I thought I may have pulled a muscle in my back. As the pain worsened, I had begun to wonder if it could be a disc problem. It wouldn’t be the first time I had hurt my back, but this pain wasn’t getting better. Irritated now as I struggled with the stairs, I chided myself—I should have been paying more attention to it when it started getting worse a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know how I let it get this bad. As my mother and I walked into the doctor’s third-floor office, I thought, If this is what thirty-eight feels like, I wonder what lies ahead.

The doctor’s small office was packed. Sitting shoulder to shoulder with the other patients, I tried to squirm as discretely as I could as the pain worsened the longer I sat. My turn came, and the tired old doctor, hunched over with a mop of white hair, examined me gently. Anxious and in pain, I managed a confident voice. “The pain has been going on for a little while,” I said. “I am not sure exactly when it started, but it got much worse this week.” I took a deep breath, then admitted, “Today is the worst it’s ever been.”

He wasn’t sure what was causing this pain. He recommended that I see an orthopedic doctor right away, and his receptionist gave us their list.

Oddly, the pain abated a bit that weekend. It didn’t go away, but its edge dulled. I considered whether I should just let it resolve itself. No, I decided. Let’s just get to the bottom of this. I didn’t particularly want to feel that much pain ever again. Monday came, and now I was on the case after some weeks of procrastinating to get myself the care I needed. By the time I got in to see an orthopedic doctor, the back pain was intermittent and manageable. With the prescription for strong painkillers in hand, I felt I had done what I could to address the issue.

Even with the good medicine, the pain didn’t abate, but I have a way of working through pain. Things needed to get done. I needed to keep going. My daughter’s fifth birthday party was coming up in early December. Work was busy, and year-end accounting had to be dealt with. Although, I now kept daddyjee’s cane with me.

The Nipple and the Question

The year 2007 started and January rolled into February. My back and hips still hu...

Table of contents

• FOREWORD
• INTRODUCTION
• PART 1. THE WHAT
• SECTION A. THE TIP AND THE ICEBERG
• CHAPTER 2. DR. MASER AND THE VOICE
• CHAPTER 1. THE PAIN AND THE QUESTION
• SECTION B. THE TESTS AND THE CONCLUSION
• CHAPTER 1. THE ODDS AND THE MAMMOGRAM
• CHAPTER 2. THE CLUE AND THE PENDING DIAGNOSIS
• CHAPTER 3. THE REPORTS AND THE CANCELLED APPOINTMENT
• CHAPTER 4. THE BIOPSIES AND THE WEDDING
• CHAPTER 5. THE BACK AND THE BREAST
• CHAPTER 6. THE PET-CT SCAN AND THE CALL
• CHAPTER 7. DR. MASER AND THE PROMISE
• CHAPTER 8. THE BONES AND THE SOUND OF LIFE
• CHAPTER 9. THE TRUTH AND HAVING THE KNOWLEDGE
• CHAPTER 10. DR. THEODOULOU AND THE VERDICT
• CHAPTER 11. DR. SMITH AND THE ACTION
• SECTION C. THE TREATMENT AND THE CHECKS AND BALANCES
• CHAPTER 1. THE WAR AND THE BODY
• CHAPTER 2. THE HAIR AND THE WIG
• CHAPTER 3. THE CHEMO AND THE dTS STAFF MEETINGS
• CHAPTER 4. LIFE AND CHECKS AND BALANCES
• SECTION D. THE CHALLENGE AND THE STABILITY
• CHAPTER 1. THE FEAR AND THE HOPE
• PART 2. THE HOW
• SECTION A. SCIENCE
• CHAPTER 1. THE SCIENCE AND BUSINESS OF CANCER
• CHAPTER 2. THE “LESSER” ACTORS AND HEALING
• SECTION B. HUMANITY
• CHAPTER 1. TOGETHERNESS AND ONENESS
• CHAPTER 2. THE ROLE MODEL AND MY GRATITUDE
• CHAPTER 3. THE CORE AND MY STRENGTH
• CHAPTER 4. THE REASONS FOR LIVING AND MY INSPIRATION
• CHAPTER 5. THE INNER CIRCLE AND THE UPLIFTING
• CHAPTER 6. THE COMMUNITIES AND THE SUPPORT
• CHAPTER 7. THE STRANGERS AND THEIR KINDNESS
• SECTION C. FAITH
• CHAPTER 1. THE DEAL AND THE COMMITMENTS
• CHAPTER 2. FAITH AND RELIGION
• CHAPTER 3. SPIRITUALITY AND HOME
• PART 3. THE WHY
• SECTION A. FACING LIFE AND LIVING WELL
• CHAPTER 1. UNDERSTANDING MY OWN JOURNEY
• CHAPTER 2. STEP 1: FACING THE TRUTH
• CHAPTER 3. STEP 2: LIVE YOUR LIFE
• CHAPTER 4. STEP 3: CREATING A CIRCLE OF LOVE
• CHAPTER 5. STEP 4: THE DECISION
• CHAPTER 6. STEP 5: BUILD YOUR NARRATIVE
• CHAPTER 7. STEP 6: DON’T TRADE IN PROBABILITIES
• CHAPTER 8. STEP 7: WAHEGURUJI KA SAATH (WALKING WITH A GREATER ENERGY)
• CHAPTER 9. STEP 8: SET GOALS, BUILD YOUR MOTIVATION
• CHAPTER 10. STEP 9: AMRIT
• CHAPTER 11. STEP 10: KHALSA CELLS
• CHAPTER 12. STEP 11: REMOVE THE CEILINGS
• CHAPTER 13. STEP 12: STAYING ONE STEP AHEAD
• CHAPTER 14. STEP 13: GIVING UP CONTROL
• CHAPTER 15. STEP 14: VIGILANCE
• SECTION B. THE APPLICATION AND LIVING
• CHAPTER 1. THE RETROSPECTIVE—THE WHAT, HOW, AND WHY
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
• APPENDIX